


Honor, Duty, Pride

by Esteliel



Series: The Tale of Eluivor and Vereyar [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Online
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Mirkwood, Original Character(s), Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a scion of the noble House of the Pine, now all his life is in ruins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honor, Duty, Pride

When the door closed softly behind him, his shoulders slumped a little, as if he had at last shed a heavy suit of armor. Another day of walking through the ruins of the life he had known, with nothing but his own pride and honor to guard himself against the shame that had befallen his House.

And yet, his pride was all that was left to him.

It would have to do.

Slowly, he walked towards the bed. She was asleep, and that was surprising enough that it brought a tired little smile to his face. The elaborate crown of tightly looped silver braids still encircled her head, yet one gem-studded braid had escaped its confines and framed her relaxed face in a rare show of disarray. Her gown was half-opened, displaying the gentle swell of her breasts to his eyes, as if she had fallen asleep while nursing the child. He frowned briefly, for one of her ladies-in-waiting should have helped her undress and brushed her hair before she retired. Their name might be a mark of shame now, but that did not mean that his Lady should deny herself the comforts she so sorely deserved.

He sat down on the bed next to her, tenderly brushing the displaced braid away from her face. He pressed a kiss to her brow when she stirred at the touch, murmuring softly, "My Lady should not have waited for me," when her eyes filled with awareness once more.

"My Lord should not return to a lonely room without company or comfort," she replied, and he smiled and kissed her gently, his hand slipping into the open bodice until he could cup a warm breast, her skin soft beneath the callouses of his fingers.

She exhaled against his lips, both of them surprised by his sudden daring, though none of them could find the strength to pull away for a long moment.

At last, he smiled again, this time with regret. "I wish I could give my Lady the life she deserves. I know that this was not what you expected when you agreed to this marriage."

"My Lord has never disappointed me."

He closed his eyes, shame weighing heavily on him. "I will see my honor restored," he swore. "You will receive the respect you deserve. Our son will not grow up in shame."

"You are an honorable man," she said softly, cool fingertips touching his cheek. "I have never doubted you. I have never regretted agreeing to this marriage."

Eluivor took her hand, then pressed a kiss to those slender fingers. "My brother was a fool. For many reasons, but for this most of all. When he turned away from you at that ball and you stood there straight and lovely, wearing your dignity like armor, I saw that you were as strong and courageous as any man I have ever led into battle. You impressed me, my Lady, and you have impressed me every day since."

She watched him from those clear, green eyes, the armor of her dignity gone as she arched lightly into his touch when he splayed his fingers. Once more he marveled at this intimacy between them. The well-brought up maiden whom his brother had declared too devoid of love and passion when he instead chose a girl that laughed at all his jests had made herself vulnerable for him in such a humbling show of trust.

"My mother taught me that love always grows from respect," she said, her heartbeat fluttering beneath his fingertips, "but that not always respect grows from love. She spoke the truth."

He inclined his head. "Your mother is a wise woman, my Lady, and prepared you better for life than my brother would have ever understood. Likewise, perhaps my own mother taught me better than she taught my brother that a woman running the household of a noble house deserves as much respect for her work than any captain leading a troop of men into battle. You have impressed me from that very first moment. Which is why you deserve better than the ruins of my father's and brother's shame."

"No one can ever doubt your honor and noble nature," she said softly as she drew her fingers through his golden hair, so recently shorn short. "You are valiant and ever-true. The King will recognize your valor."

Eluivor bowed his head as if suddenly struck by grief once more. "Neither you nor my son will live like this," he swore with rare passion. "I might have nothing left to give you but this household without a name, the whispers of the people who pass you by, but I swear that I will undo this shame. I will see you wrapped in a fine cloak of velvet again with the Pine embroidered on it in thread of gold. I will see our son carry our banner into battle one day. I have nothing left to leave you with but this hope, but I swear to you that by my deeds, I will return you to your rightful place, I will see you receive the respect you deserve, and you will see our children grow as scions of the House of the Pine, and not as the grandchildren of traitors."

She traced his lips with her fingers, and he pressed a kiss to them. "My Lord will wear his armor of honor and duty, as I wear my dignity," she said slowly, the fine, noble features of her face hardening with weary acceptance of what they both knew to be their duty. "It is a long and hard battle, but I will be as obedient and dutiful as any of your men ever were. And when you return, our son will be proud of your deeds and his own heritage. You have always held your men to a high standard - but only because you held yourself to even higher standards. The Valar will recognize and reward such nobleness."

He gently pulled off her gown, drawing her close, the wonder of her warm skin and sweet scent almost drowning out the shame and the pain of the rigid corset of duty he had forced himself to wear. He would miss seeing his son grow up, but he did not voice that last regret as they came together, sparing his Lady that final degree of his pain with the desperate chivalry that was all that remained to him.


End file.
